


Anemone Coronaria

by SillyCeliac



Series: Prompt Collection [1]
Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Marriage Proposal, Murder Husbands, Post-Episode: s03e13 The Wrath of the Lamb, Will Graham and Hannibal Lecter in Cuba
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-27
Updated: 2021-02-27
Packaged: 2021-03-18 08:08:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,177
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29730906
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SillyCeliac/pseuds/SillyCeliac
Summary: It had been almost one week since Will finally gained the courage to plan his proposal. Knowing his intended's love for ostentation, popping the question casually was not an option. He only had the chance to do this once, and he would be given hell for the rest of their lives if he didn't put in an effort.
Relationships: Will Graham & Hannibal Lecter, Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter
Series: Prompt Collection [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2185119
Comments: 4
Kudos: 57





	Anemone Coronaria

**Author's Note:**

> ACOC Discord Server prompt Week of February 21, 2021: "Marriage Proposal Preparation"

It had been two years to the day since Will took Hannibal over the cliff that fated night. Almost two years since he dug Dolarhyde's bullet from Hannibal's abdomen on the motel bed in Delaware, and almost two years since they prepared to sail the Atlantic to Cuba. 

It had been twenty two months since they landed in Havana and made their way to their new waterfront villa just outside of Cienfuegos, on the Río Paraíso. Will wouldn't budge on his need for fishing opportunities, and Hannibal wouldn't budge on his desire for a historical property. It was a fixer-upper, which allowed for Will to put his handyman skills to use and for Hannibal to design a gourmet kitchen to his exacting standards. Will enjoyed the rare sight of Hannibal in denim, helping paint the dining room walls a deep maroon. Hannibal enjoyed the rare sight of a shirtless Will, refinishing the intricate moulding in the library and sweating in the humidity. 

It had been almost one year since their first kiss. Will had held out longer than he had wanted to, only because Hannibal was so infuriatingly patient and _would not_ make the first move no matter how many mind games they played. It was only fair, he concluded later, because he had rejected Hannibal so many times and in so many ways. 

It had been almost one year since Will had the brass refined from the casing of the spent bullet and inlaid into a white gold ring. Will saved the bullet from Hannibal's abdomen because it symbolized the night they consummated their relationship—not physically, but mentally. The kind of consummation that ultimately mattered to their relationship. Their souls had become one that night. ( _Their bodies became one some time later, and was a divine experience in its own right._ )

It had been almost six months since Will willingly joined Hannibal on a kill. They drove all day to a small town outside of Havana, where the bigoted hotel manager lived. They had met the swarthy man on first arrival in Cuba—he had muttered something outrageously homophobic under his breath when Hannibal had presented their forged ID's at the check-in desk. They had the same fake last names and were disguising as a couple on their honeymoon. Unluckily for the man, Hannibal's keen hearing picked up exactly what he said. Luckily for Hannibal, the man had a rack of his business cards handy atop the counter. 

It had been almost one week since Will finally gained the courage to plan his proposal. Knowing his intended's love for ostentation, popping the question casually was not an option. He only had the chance to do this once, and he would be given hell for the rest of their lives if he didn't put in an effort.

Will had his days free to scheme and acquire materials, since Hannibal was employed as an appraiser at some high-end antiques store in Cienfuegos. It didn't matter that they were on the lam—Hannibal was going to Hannibal. 

Using his time unobserved to the fullest, he stopped at the local farmer's market that Friday morning. He had frequented the row of stalls each weekend with Hannibal, who bartered in flawless Spanish for local produce to use in that week's meals. Will wandered to the shop that provided all the flowers Hannibal used in his elaborate table settings and, after a frustrating five minutes of stringing together most of the words that remained in his memory from High School Spanish, purchased two dozen red anemones. Roses were the obvious choice, but too pedestrian and predictable to give to a man like Hannibal. Besides, he had a plan. He headed over to the tostones vendor for a quick snack and, once sated, returned home.

He found a crystal vase ( _"Vintage Waterford!"_ Hannibal had gushed when he brought it home from work) from the sideboard by the dining table and filled it with water. The twenty-four stems were then trimmed on an angle, as Hannibal always fastidiously did each time he bought flowers, and placed them in the water. Will tried his best to get an artful shape of a bouquet going and hoped Hannibal would notice the effort he put in before he discerned how neophyte it looked. 

Will spent the rest of the time waiting for Hannibal to come home alternating between pacing the library and reading the latest forensic journal. 

The door opened right on time and Will went to greet Hannibal in the foyer.

"Hey babe, welcome home," he placed a quick kiss on Hannibal's cheek. "I'm gonna go shower before dinner, okay?"

"Of course, darling."

Heart pounding in his chest, Will showered, dressed, and combed his hair. He put the little velvet box in his pocket, covering the obvious bulge it created with his blazer. 

As hoped, Hannibal had just finished plating their dinner as he entered the kitchen. 

"Grilled wild mushrooms and sausage with Pimentón vinaigrette," Hannibal announced. 

Will hummed in excitement. "I'll grab the wine." 

They entered the dining room, plates and wine in hand, and sat in their usual places, across from one another. Hannibal glanced at the vase with flowers decorating the table but did not say anything. Will saw a spark of amused interest flash in his eyes, though. 

They began to eat. Will, ever impressed with Hannibal's culinary prowess, let a quiet moan escape as he took his first bite. Hannibal was equally smug and enthralled as he watched him swallow. They continued eating until the tension overcame Will.

"I...uh...got you flowers."

" _Anemone coronaria,_ " Hannibal stated. "In Victorian flower language, they mean forsaken love. Tell me Will, are you intending to leave?"

"You'd kill me if I did," he chuckled. "No...they...they signify something entirely different to me. Anemone flowers were said to have sprung from the tears of Aphrodite as she mourned her dying lover. Just as the blood dripping from Adonis's wounds stained them red, the blood dripping from your wounds that night two years ago stained my soul."

Hannibal placed his cutlery gently down as Will held his darkening gaze. 

"I learned a truth about us that night," Will stood slowly, unbuttoning his blazer. 

"Which truth?"

Will rounded the table. "That I don't think either of us _would_ survive separation."

Hannibal turned in his seat to face Will and released a breath he didn't realize he was holding.

Will knelt on one knee at his side and stared up at Hannibal's fluttering eyes through his dark lashes. 

"Will—"

He pulled the black velvet box from his pocket. Ignoring Hannibal’s attempt to interrupt, he breathed, "Besides, I don't think I would want to."

"W—" 

Will's name choked in his throat as the box was opened and he saw the cracked white gold ring, fissures inlaid and repaired with slivers of gleaming brass. 

"Hannibal, will you marry me?"

The room held its breath and the quiet orchestra of cicadas played outside.

A tear fell from Hannibal's eyes. He didn't think he wanted to survive separation either.

"Yes."


End file.
